Page 102 of Beneath Cherry Blossom Memories

It was the first Christmas I’d ever gone to at the Sawyer’s.

Oliver looked horrible then, but oddly enough, he doesn’t look too bad right now. He’s not skinny anymore. In fact, he seems like he’s bulked up quite a bit. A neatly trimmed beard covers his acne scars.

“Sorry I’m late, Kristen,” he rasps and falls into a chair. “I got carried away building my deck again.”

She laughs. “Well, since you are late, you can do an introduction. We have some new faces here with us today.”

He groans loudly. “Do I have to?”

She beams. “Yes.”

He huffs, then straightens in his chair. “Hi, I’m Oli, and I’m an addict. I’m twenty-seven, and my favorite color is brown.” He forces a fake smile, butKristenseems satisfied.

A few more people introduce themselves, and then it’s my turn.

“Um. Hey,” I say, my voice dropping lower than usual. “I’m Eli.” Kristen mouths theI’m an addictpart, so I feel obligated to say it. “I’m an…addict. Uh. I’m twenty-eight.” She mouthsfavorite anything. Well, that’s easy. “My favorite person is Phoenix.”

That perks Oliver right up. He stares at me, blinks several times, and then shrivels into his seat, pulling his hood over his head. Too late fucker.I see you.

Kristen leads the meeting into a discussion about our strengths. We’re all expected to share, and Oliver’s strength surprises me. He says that he is trusting someone again. It resonates with me, but I don’t want to be a copycat. So when it’s my turn, I say my strength is resilience. It’s true to an extent, and everyone claps for me.

Then Kristen steers into the darker shit.

She gives us the option to share, and I note that Oliver doesn’t.

A woman named Christine goes off. She tells us her whole life story in painful detail. How she was forced into prostitution at fourteen, had her daughter at sixteen, and then struggled with drugs for ten years. She got clean for a while but relapsed, and now she’s been clean for two months. It’s crazy that she went through all that and still seems so hopeful. Like that she will make it this time and stay away from drugs.

I don’t share yet because I don’t want to tell all my dirt to these strangers. Especially not when Phoenix doesn’t yet know everything. He knows the jist but not the details. I think he deserves to know before these people.

By the time the meeting ends, I have my eyes locked on Oli. He tries to sneak out, but I follow him. I swear he knows because his long legs speed up. Fuck, sometimes I hate being short.

Power walking like it’s my job, I finally catch up to the little shit and slap my hand on his shoulder. The way he leaps into the air, pales like he’s going to hurl, and has an entire body shudder makes me rip my hand away.

“Sorry,” I growl.

He stares at me like I’ve lost my mind. “You can’t just go around touching people,” he snaps, stepping back significantly.

“Sorry,” I repeat, nicer than before. “I wasn’t sure if you remembered me.”

“I do,” he says suspiciously.

“Cool.”

“Goodbye,” he blurts and turns to leave.

“Wait!” He pauses, so I rush out, “Phoenix has been trying to get a hold of you.”

His shoulders hike to his ears. “Okay,” he drawls.

“Will you just text him something? Anything? He’s…worried.”

The dude has his back to me, so I carefully step around him to look him in the eye. He’s grinding his teeth so hard that I think they’ll shatter. “Oliver?”

“I’ll talk to him when I’m ready to. I’d appreciate it if you just left me alone now.” And with that, he leaves, pushing through the double doors with speed.

Well. Fuck you then, asshole.

Istew on Oliver being anaddictfor the rest of the day.

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